Sygyt
by MiningforDreams
Summary: Cain is on the hunt. How in tune can master and servant be? Set pretty early on in the saga; a series of CainRiff scenarios with minor attention to plot. Reviewer advice and ideas greatly appreciated! *spoilers, shounen-ai, and future rating elevation*
1. Chapter 1

_Okay so I'm trying my hand at a fic again_

_Okay so I'm trying my hand at a fic again. : I just finished the _GodChild _series and loved it. I cried like a baby at the end. Cried and laughed at the same time, actually. Because I was so happy yet so, so sad. How does Kaori Yuki-sama pull off such a bitter-sweet ending so masterfully? Anyway, I could go on and on about my feelings about the series, but that's not what I'm here for. I've had a bunch of CainRiff scenarios in my head since finishing it, and want to try to write them out, because I don't think this fandom has enough love. :0 It will be multi-chapter, in what will hopefully be a semi-linear plot. It's a loose plot though, because it will mainly focus on their relationship. So here's my warning, I might slip up with some of the details and I would love it if whoever reads it could point out any mistakes I make. :_

_With that said, here we go with chapter one:_

* * *

**Act I: Knot? What Knot?**

A feminine giggle, a flutter of lace: Cain found himself pulled down onto the velvet love seat strategically placed in front of the open French windows (how convenient it would be, for her to simply, "accidentally," send whoever offended her plummeting to their deaths, Cain morbidly thought. He calculated how many flights he had walked up to reach her room. He'd best be extra polite, he concluded). She was holding on to his hand so tight he suspected it might need Riff's special ironing attention later that night, if he ever found an opportunity to make his leave. Riff. He'd always felt a little guilty making Riff wait for him to finish his courting escapades, but quickly dismissed it, as it is a butler's duty.

"Sir Cain, please do be relaxing," Dulcinea playfully chided as she started to tug his black leather glove off. It had been a while since he tried courting a woman, because of the rumors flying around his Manor. Cain wasn't expressly interested in a wife, but his insistent Uncle Niel badgered him for weeks. Luckily, Dulcinea came from a wealthy family from Spain, and she had only spent three years in England (her family too, faced petty scandal in Spain and decided to move to England to start anew, in the heart of Scandal itself). It was no surprise she had not mastered the English syntax. Cain chuckled at her accent, despite his self-control. Dulcinea dropped his glove on the ground and huffed.

"Do not take my words in jest, because I do not use my mouth as you do," for some reason, what she was trying to say came out more eloquent than he had expected, and somewhat more suggestive. Her hands were now on her hips, but they disappeared in the green and white ruffles of her dress. In truth, he loved her sense of color, that color green was impeccable. It reminded him of something. Her short curly black hair framed her pout in and admittedly adorable way. He paused and fabricated, "My dear lady, please, I was only laughing at the pleasure it gives me to hold your delicate hand." Dulcinea instantly forgot her defensive posture and took up his hand again and held it to her cheek. She sighed and Cain smiled indulgently. He wondered if Riff could hear his hollow words of flattery from outside the door. Riff, amused, would lightly poke fun at him later, for it.

Cain's eyes were still planted on Dulcinea's emerald bodice when he suddenly remembered. Cain pulled gently away to pick up his abandoned glove on the ground. He stood and donned his favorite top hat. Dulcinea jolted upright in a panic, "Lord Cain, please do not tell me you're leaving so much early again! I see you not for one week! Please partake in the tea with I…" she trailed off when Cain bowed to place his lips on her hand. "Lady Dulcinea, I'm afraid I have several appointments of the urgent kind scheduled for this afternoon. Though it pains me to leave your beautiful countenance for too long, I'm certain I must take my leave. Until next week." He grabbed his cane and lifted his hat in politeness. His two favorite accessories gave him a mature and mysterious dimension; they made him appear an in-control and independent Earl. Dulcinea watched longingly as his perfectly tailored coattails disappeared through the double doors. Riff was in the middle of a bow as Cain shut the doors behind him.

"Riff!"

"Yes Milord?"

"The intoxicating color of Lady Dulcinea's dress has reminded me of something. To the library!" Cain held his cane slightly up as if he were a general leading his men to the battlefield. The only difference was the smirk on Cain's face.

In the middle of London, there stood a grandiose library. In that library there was a wing preserved specifically for the upper-class. Though Cain thought of this as pompous, he took full advantage of it. Cain and Riff walked lightly down the red-carpeted halls. The two of them had learned to walk with a gait so imperceptible that only trained ears could hear. They sometimes required being undetected. This was one of these times.

Cain slipped into the darkest, dustiest aisle of the special wing. He placed his glove along the spines of the ancient-bound books until he found the exact volume he wanted.

"Sir, you'll soil your gloves." Riff had to whisper, in order to preserve their established secrecy. Cain hid his smile beneath feigned concentration. Distracted, he only skimmed through the thin pages until he found what he was looking for. He stood still while he re-focused on his intent. He shut the book with a snap, and Riff jumped. Cain looked at Riff and took off his wrinkled and dusty glove. He placed the disheveled glove in Riff's compliant hand and walked past him, slowly. "I guess it won't be becoming of an Earl to have a dirtied hand."

Cain walked towards the exit, thinking about his next move. He really needed to see Alan in Oxfordshire. He would have to hide his trip from Merryweather... she would be sure to get upset about him leaving without her. This was important. Alan had the information he wanted, and he couldn't afford taking Merry to the apothecary, Lord knows she gets into enough trouble without having hundreds of poisons at her disposal. Luckily, she and Oscar were out to see a play this afternoon, and he had the chance of scheduling his trip before she arrived home this evening. He would have to take Riff with him of course, for... well, because he said so. Mind adopting sensory input from the real world once again, Cain was aware of the uncommon discomfort of his loyal butler, but decided to ignore it for the time being.

It was a few hours before sunset as the two men carefully and slowly made their way down the cast-iron spiral staircase of the library. The gears in Riff's head were spinning wildly; they had been all day. For some reason, his master's visit this afternoon had sparked a question inside him that had never occurred, or that he had never wanted to acknowledge.

The sun's darkening rays filtered through the dusty air of the library and cast an eerie light upon his master; (Master Cain always planned the most important events of the day around the hours before and after sunset, so that he could easily maneuver between the light and dark. Some events Master Cain insisted to do only at night, and others only during the day). He knew his master was planning something. He rarely was this silently pensive after an ordinary day's "work." It must be one of those days when Cain decided to embrace the night... Orange slats of light graced his the dark of his back. To Riff, it looked like he was burning. Riff could not help it:

"Master, why is it you never commit to any woman? You leave Dulcinea before you become serious with each other. Uncle Niel wishes you to marry and produce an heir. Is… is it because of your scars? One day, your lady will have to see them—" Riff was startled into silence as Cain abruptly stopped on the last flight of stairs. The iron vibrated slightly with the jagged movement. Riff backed up only slightly, the look in Cain's eyes overpowered the fire he saw burning into his back a moment ago. Cain turned fully around and placed his cane on the left side of his servant's body and stepped up so that they were on the same stair. The air became thicker with the fiery red hue of the dying sun. Or maybe it had to do with the hot breath of his master getting closer.

"Riff, are you sure you should be asking me that?" The outer flecks of yellow in Cain's eyes glowed dangerously in the sunset rays, like venom.

"Sir, I only mean to understand your plans."

Surly, Cain had a plan to deal with this. Cain planned everything. He was a clever person. Surly he had it under—Riff stopped thinking and started feeling at the sight of Master Cain faltering. It was a sight only he witnessed. The fall of Earl Hargreaves, the poison mastermind, and the resurfacing of the lonely child he once, and still protects. Cain bowed his head and let his hat and cane fall. He grabbed the lapels of Riff's uniform and looked up with the childlike innocence radiating from his youthful eyes.

"I told you, you're the only one who can touch my scars! I don't want anyone else to see them! I don't want a wife to always regret seeing them! Don't you understand Riff? Why do you insist on supporting the wishes of society? Do you want me gone that badly? Do you want me to be taken from you?" Cain's voice full of childish anger quivered and his head fell again. He let his hands slip from Riff's jacket after moments of non-response.

Before he could back away, though, a white-gloved hand circled around Cain's smoldering back. Riff's left hand was trembling, the arm not coming all the way up to comb through his master's hair. Cain inhaled sharply at the feeling of Riff's ungloved right hand tracing the scars he knew by heart on his back. Cain wrapped his arms around the torso of his butler and buried his head into the jacket separating him from his heart. When Cain felt this vulnerable, he wanted to hide inside the man he trusted most.

Riff was audibly upset, breathing heavily, just holding his master as if the force they were both afraid of was coming to take the young man away that very moment.

"Riff, what's wrong with your arm? Is it hurt?" Cain carefully slid a slender finger along the cuff of his left wrist, and Riff twitched. Anyone else, Cain would have suspected something different, but not his Riff. Riff, as if awakening from a seizure, brought his arm fully up to the face of his master and gently wove his fingers through the silken locks. "No, Master Cain, I'm truly sorry for upsetting you. I belong to you, so I will never leave you or let anyone take you away." Cain only nodded, as if the sound of his voice might betray... After moments of Riff's soothing and comforting words, locked still in an embrace for dear life, there was a sound that cut through the aging silence. Footsteps, it sounded like. Forced back into reality, Cain parted slightly from Riff and Riff's hands shot up from their supportive positions to the necktie of his master, giving an appearance of standard servant wardrobe maintenance. Cain reluctantly looked down the stairs to the intruder.

"Oscar, what are you doing here?" Trying to keep the disappointment from his voice and breaking away from Riff's appealing touch, he greeted his friend a bit too harshly.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, cleared his throat, and then smiled. "Umm, good day to you too, Cain. I thought you'd be here. Merryweather insisted I bring you back to the manor at once."

* * *

_Okay, that's part one. I had fun writing this. devilish grin A couple of notes: I don't know if anyone would have gotten the reference to _Don Quixote_, since that was really random and weird. I just thought having a foreign and hyper Spanish girl for Cain would make that boring scene a tad humorous. I hope it was at least slightly entertaining!_

_Oh, and the title, it's a reference to the euphemism for getting married._

_Riff: So, when are you going to tie the knot, Cain?_

_Cain: puppy dog eyes Knot? What knot?_

_XD okay I'll shut up now._

_Also, I was really subtle this time around. I want to gradually elevate the level of intimacy. Cain's childish persona that comes out when he's upset or doesn't get his way is so endearing, I think. It's a unique defense mechanism. Regression? Also, I wanted to write about Riff's left arm in such a way that made it mysterious. I wonder if it worked. Please let me know!_

_Also, I'd love to hear any requests or ideas for more scenes between them. The plot really wasn't revealed yet in this one. I hope you'll read the next chapter! (I'll try and make the next act a bit longer!) Thank you! Eternal love for all readers and reviewers!!_


	2. Chapter 2

Okay folks, the (pathetic excuse for a) second act is out. YOU ALL HAVE PERMISSION TO KILL ME FOR TAKING SO LONG. I know you don't care about my excuses, but since the last chapter, my life suddenly decided to be "exciting." I've been running around all month, busy. It's shocking...

Plus I've been sort of lost as to what to do with the story. This chapter is short. But I decided to just put up what I've done so far, so as to not look like I died. I proooomise I'll be writing from now on, everyday.

Gah, I realized I spelled Merriweather's name wrong last chapter.

**Act II**--

"Big Brother! Ha, I knew it, you were at the library! You only go there to scheme, you know, I'm onto you! Tell me!"

Cain had only said "hello Merriweather," and already he was bombarded with suspicion. Riff smiled at the child's fiery personality and took Cain's cape and cane. Cain took his hat off his head and placed it on Merriweather's. She looked up with an indignant pout from beneath the rim.

"It's a secret between adults," he winked at her, "how was the play? Did Oscar act like a gentleman?" He threw Oscar a menacing smile. Merriweather didn't fall for it. "Don't change the subject dearest brother," that time with a bit of sarcasm, "I hate when you leave me in the dark." Oscar beamed, "and I love it!" Merriweather turned and kicked the older man in the shin.

While Oscar was writhing on the ground, Cain slipped past the room's occupants and into the foyer hallway. Riff took care of Oscar and Merri's shoes and followed his master into the Piano room. Cain quite literally plopped himself into a green velvet armchair and rested his cheek on an upright fist. To his guests, it merely looked as if Cain were bored, or running low on patience (the latter would not be entirely false). But for the one who always fetched the Acetylsalicylic acid (the newest pain-alleviating substance that Cain insisted on getting his hands on, despite the cost), Riff knew better. Cain was developing a headache.

Merri and Oscar joined the two in the piano room and sat on the couch, waiting for Cain to explain his day's excursion. Cain merely massaged his temples and gave a warning glance to Riff; it read, "get-me-my-pain-killers-now-or-I'll-cut-your-paycheck."

"Lady Merriweather, would you mind helping me retrieve something for Master Cain?" Riff decided to chance trying to interpret Cain's body language. Merri looked once at Cain and then to Riff. "Of course, Riff!" He chanced a look at his master, and found that he had been given a grateful look of appreciation.

Riff took Merri up to the medicine room.

"Oscar, can I ask you of something again?" Cain didn't bother to change his posture into something more presentable.

"You want me to take care of beautiful Merri again? You can count on—" He was cut off by Cain's glare. "Oscar, I wish you'd at least pretend to take this seriously. Merri is one of the few precious things left I have. I'm going on a trip to the country to obtain a substance that might change the course of current events…" Cain trailed off, looking quixotic. Oscar grumbled, "If you don't trust me than why not just leaver her with Riff?" Cain snapped back into the conversation and instinctually replied, "Riff is coming with me."

"Man, you really do everything together, don't you? Your wife's going to be jealous, if you ever find one," Oscar laughed.

Cain was not amused.

"Is that what you think of women, Oscar? Objects to be found?" Of course, Cain knew that wasn't the way Oscar was; he was truly chivalrous. Cain knew his bitterness was misplaced. He really was bothered by what his friend had said.

Oscar made himself very small in the fabric of the couch. "I'm sorry Oscar, never mind. I just need you to watch over my sister for a week, at most. You know the rules, all provisions in effect." Oscar dutifully replied, "by heart, sir," and grinned widely and bowed with what anyone but Cain would see as flamboyant mockery.

After Merri and Riff returned, Merri now concerned for the health of her brother, Cain bid farewell to Oscar, and goodnight to Merri. (He tucked her in, as usual, along with her endless collection of dolls that threatened to overpopulate every inch of her room.)

Cain blew out the last candle which allowed Cain to see the rapidly falling eyelids of his half-sister. He walked down the silent corridor, the long strip of velvet carpeting muffling what would be the loud clapping of his soles. He loved walking through his manor after the servants had retired for the night. He allowed them unusually lengthy nights to themselves, because—truth be told—he only _needed_ one person to take care of him. The rest were a careless show of wealth, of which he despised and his relatives loved.

Cain opened the door to his room. So striking was the darkness, he was almost blinded by it, which prompted the thought: if beasts know only light—pure, unobstructed light—and one day happen upon darkness, would it seem to them as coveted a phenomenon, as the sun is to humans? It seemed to Cain he was beastly, created and molded in nothing but the light of wealth, the sun of fortune. Would he have remained a beast, had not his loyal servant been waiting for him in the dark?

"Uhm M-milord… I," Riff fumbled as he lit the first candle, the point of light cut through the darkness like a white-hot blade. Cain had walked across his threshold. "I had some…trouble finding the matches."

Cain removed the glove from his hand and with a fluid gesture the suggested both refinement and corruption, he snuffed the flame between two fingers. "M-master," Riff barely managed to breathe, as Riff's arm slid behind the back of his neck, and his ungloved hand reached up to hold the older man's cheek. "You're so foolish Riff," Cain exhaled against his servant's neck, elevating himself up with his toes, "I'm too _sensitive_ to light."

Riff shivered, and the enticing comfort of darkness embraced them both.

Cain awoke, groggy. Riff was above him, of course, already having prepared his morning chamomile tea and soda bread. "Milord, I know last night I didn't, er, have time to ask you but,"

Cain shot him an aggravated look. Riff rephrased, "Simply, you had me prepare a coach, but I still do not know our destination or purpose."

"Riff, fetch me my finest countrywear," Cain all but smirked. Riff sputtered. "Milord, surely you are aware that we do not have the necessary equipment—" Cain cut him off, "Riff, it won't be like last time, I promise," he gave him his best I'll-Behave look, "and I swear, we're only visiting a friend I know… and acquaintance." Cain made a face at the word "friend."

Riff looked uneasy for a few seconds but quickly righted himself. "Milord, we leave by midday."

--

Again, I'm so sorry!


End file.
